


Hallucinations

by SeptemberSilver



Series: Calliope/Caliborn [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: A teeny tiny mention of rape that I'm sure none of you will get, Angst, Caliborn being a crazed lunatic, F/M, Gen, I'm not even sure if this qualifies as Caliborn/Calliope, I'm not really sure what the hell this is, Maybe - Freeform, Romance, Sensory Deprivation, this is insane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-12
Updated: 2013-09-12
Packaged: 2017-12-26 09:50:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeptemberSilver/pseuds/SeptemberSilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lord English has succeeded. He has destroyed them all.</p><p>Too bad that wasn't really what he wanted.</p><p>Because now he's floating through space. Alone. Unable to die. And there's nothing that can save him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hallucinations

**Author's Note:**

> Hey.
> 
> This is a little weird, and it's not even really Caliborn/Calliope, because she's dead. It's more one-sided. And Caliborn's kind of gone mad.
> 
> Okay, he really kind of goes mad. And gets kinda OOC. But just remember that he's been floating around in empty space for almost two months.
> 
> Hussie's text was taken (and then altered slightly) from when he talks to Caliborn in the grey planet thingummy.

He had done it.

 

He had obliterated the world. But that wasn’t what he had wanted.

 

He’d wanted to control the world. To show it who was boss. To have a little fun outside that damned room on that tacky planet. To torture people and make. Them. Scream.

 

But no. They were dead. Completely dead. Dream and real selves alike.

 

He was alone.

 

He wished he could travel back in time now. But he’d made a mistake—he’d destroyed the world from the very beginning of its creation. And no matter how far back he went, he just ended up back in the darkness. Floating through space. Lightless. Dark. Never-ending piece of shit.

 

He hadn't heard his own voice in days. There was nobody to talk to. He didn't want to talk to himself, because he knew people who talked to themselves were fools and idiots and he hated them. He hated all of them. And now he hated that they'd died.

 

_So weak. So fucking pathetic. You didn't even bother to fight back. Not once. Nobody was a match for me. All of it was TOO EASY. Too fucking easy._

 

He didn't know what to do. The skies were starless. He could've been dead and he wouldn't have known the difference. Oh, how he almost wished he _was_ dead, except that people who wished they were dead were just as stupid as the people who talked to themselves. 

 

He decided to sleep.

 

**Day 3**

 

He slept all day. Or what he decided was a day. _A day,_ he said to himself, _begins when I wake up and ends when I go to sleep. Or whenever I say it starts and ends._

 

He didn't know what he liked or didn't like. There was nothing for him to like. He couldn't remember if he'd liked anything even before this whole mess started.  

 

Well, no, that wasn't quite true.

 

He liked games.

 

He _loved_ games. 

 

Especially the ones he used to play with his sister. Mental games. Trying to kill her. Trying to hurt her. Trying to mate with her. _Checkmate_. It was a figure of speech.

 

Dirk said so.

 

Why was Dirk there? Lord English didn’t know. But he was quite sure that he saw Dirk sometimes. He heard his voice, he was absolutely certain of that. And his face was there, even though it flickered.

 

The rest of his body had to be there. That would’ve made sense. But whenever he tried to reach out and touch it, it disappeared. Or flickered again. Dirk must’ve been dreaming. That was good—if he was dreaming, Lord English would probably be dreaming, and he would certainly wake up soon. And see people. And kill people. Or maybe not kill them, just torture them. He missed seeing pain and hearing screams, he really did.

 

He wished he could hear Calliope’s screams.

 

**Day 5**

 

Why hadn’t he woken up yet?

 

Sleeping was _boring_.

 

**Day 9**

Calliope had to be around here somewhere. If Dirk and Jane were here—yes, they showed up all the time and talked about random things—then Calliope had to be there.

 

He had conversations with Hussie sometimes, too. He was also there.

 

Hussie was always telling him off. “I can’t believe you killed them like that! What’s the matter with you? They were some of the first living beings you’ve ever met in your whole life, and you destroyed them without a single word? You’ve got some problems.”

 

“Fuck you. And look. I know I have goddamn problems. But just. Tell me. What the goddamn hell. Should I do?”

 

“This is your quest. In quests, there are challenges. Challenges which much be overcome by...”

 

“Your tiny, learningly-disabled brain... Haven’t we had this exact conversation before?”

 

“What you really need is a guide. A mentor, of sorts.”

 

“This is pretty much. Almost exactly. The same goddamn thing you said. When I was on the meteor. SAY SOMETHING ELSE. BE ORIGINAL. USE YOUR _OWN_ FUCKING LEARNING-DISABLED BRAIN.”

 

“Too bad you shot that clown.”

 

“OH MY GOD. SAY SOMETHING ELSE.”

 

“Sorry to disappoint you. He’s not dead. What did you expect? He’s clearly a god tier.”

 

“STOP FUCKING WITH ME.”

 

“I’M NOT FUCKING WITH YOU. ASSHOLE. THIS IS. A HALLUCINATION.”

 

And Hussie turned into Dirk.

 

Caliborn stared. And stared.

 

_I’m hallucinating. No. This is not possible. Only idiots hallucinate. This has to be real. Hussie was just saying. Exactly the same thing as he did on that grey planet. To spite me. And it’s not working._

 

**Day 15**

He kept hearing his sister’s voice. Whispering in his head. But she would never show herself.

 

 _Hello, my darling brother. I won, Caliborn, I won! Don’t you wish you could see me right now? **Fuck this.** Don’t you wish you I am BETTER than you. weren’t all alone? **I don’t know why I bother humoring your vile** Maybe if you thought _Help me, Caliborn _before you acted, **underhanded rubbish!** you would have people to play with. Maybe _I miss you, Caliborn _you’d have me. **Just sod right off** FUCK YOU! You could’ve visited me, you know, _I love you _just once or twice **to hell, please!**_

****

“GET OUT!!!” he always screamed. “STOP IT!!! SHOW YOURSELF!!!”

 

**Day 20**

She had so many different voices.

 

There was one layered with sarcasm and dripping with poison. There was another one, smug, reflecting his own. There was the girl that he knew, and her words were made up of his memories stitched together. Then there was a voice, cowardly, trembling, and scared, that begged him to come and see her.

 

He craved them all. They all sent shivers down his spine, and he wished more than anything in the world that he could see them.

 

Perhaps one day he would.

 

But he was going mad. These different Calliopes, they were always there, and if they were gone for a second he would panic and scream and they would come rushing back.

 

There was something truly wrong with him.

 

Sensory deprivation or something along those lines. He’d heard it from Calliope, and so he heard it in the voices which begged him to _come and play,_ I wish you were here with me _SUCKER **You’re behaving like a child!** gorgeous, don’t you IDIOT _Stop this. Let’s go back to the way things were _wish you could?_

If it were true, if these were really hallucinations... no. THEY COULD NOT BE. HALLUCINATIONS WERE FOR WIMPS.

 

 _You’re better than that, darling_ , one of Calliope’s voices purred in his ear, and he could swear he felt her fingertips brush against his arm lightly.

**Day 30**

She finally visited him. One of the Calliopes.

 

“You’ve grown so _stunning_ ,” she whispered in his ear as she rested her hands on his chest. “I swear, you’ve gotten so _tall_... you really matured quite well... and here I was thinking I was ugly. I could’ve been as gorgeous as you are now, did you know that?”

 

“Shut up,” he said uncomfortably.

 

“Oh, but you’re so _glad_ to see me, aren’t you? You’re so happy that you aren’t seeing things. You’re desperate. God, for a guy as sexy as you, you’re pathetic!”

 

She snickered right in his ear and he pulled away.

 

“Give me back. The real Calliope. Where the fuck. Is she?”

 

“And here I was, thinking you actually wanted some company, not just a more pathetic version of me. No matter. I shall leave you now. Ta-ta!”

 

Her entire form seemed to shimmer, and then she was gone.

 

He was almost relieved.

 

**Day 40**

The smug Calliope came to see him that day. She was muscled and strong, and she had a golden tooth just like he did.

 

“HAHA. YOU LOSER,” she said in a voice that was almost his.

 

“I’m not a fucking loser. You are.”

 

“YOU’RE STUCK HERE. ALL BY YOURSELF. YOU HATE YOURSELF. EVEN MORE THAN YOU HATE ME. HA. HA. HAHAHA. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA--”

 

She slowly morphed into him, cheeks turning a cherry red, eyes filled with menace, growing stronger, taller.

 

More capable.

 

Not Calliope.

 

He shoved at her form, and she disappeared.

 

**Day 55**

And then there was the regular Calliope.

 

She was just herself. Standing there. She had arrived without warning and nothing made him more relieved.

 

“I’ve come for you, brother... I missed you,” she smiled. So this was regular Calliope’s voice. It was the scared one combined with the one he’d never heard but always imagined.

 

“I missed. You just a tiny fucking bit. Too.” The words slipped out before he could hold them in, but it was true.

 

She was there. She had finally arrived. She was _not_ a hallucination, he was sure, and she was ready to talk to him and he could torture her all he liked.

 

He could do whatever he wanted to her.

 

He grabbed her by the throat and choked her, so happy to feel skin on his hands, so happy to feel a pulse, her pulse, his own pulse, throbbing everywhere, through his head and his heart down to his toes and it was in his very core. She choked out words over and over and she died again and again and he was filled with so much joy.

 

He kicked her, bit her, tore her limbs off, and the scars always healed, everything always grew back. He shoved himself into her until she screamed and when he had emptied himself he pressed his face into her neck and cried with happiness.

 

She was finally home.

 

Of course, though, she wasn’t real. She was a hallucination, and he was completely fucking mad.

 

But he would never know.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment :)


End file.
